


Lost Season 1: Sam's Story

by obsessedwithall06



Category: Lost
Genre: F/M, Friendship/Love, Gen, Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:47:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28661973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsessedwithall06/pseuds/obsessedwithall06
Summary: Experience Lost with a new added OC, Samantha (Sam). Unlock the mysteries of the island and figure out why Sam is on it. Bad summary, but please give the story a shot of you like Lost. I update regularly, I'll never abandon the story for years. I will finish it. I already have a lot of chapters posted on fanfiction.net and so now I am posting on here. I will post once a week for as long as I can.
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter One: Pilot

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a fic based off of the T.V. show Lost. For those of you who haven't watched the show, I highly recommend it. It's an amazing show. Before I start I want to say I own nothing of the shoe Lost or any of the characters. I only own my OCs. Anyways, on with the story.

I opened my eyes and surveyed the surrounding wreckage. The plane had crashed and the smoking wreckage lay on the beach a little bit aways from me. Someone was screaming somewhere. Everything was a confusing blur as I tried to get my bearings. I sit up and look around, but I don't see my brother anywhere. I try not to panic. We were sitting on the plane together.

I remember going down. Patrick and I were sitting on the plane when the pilot announced that we were going to be experiencing some turbulence and put the fasten seatbelts sign on. I was drowsy then; it had been a rough flight and the recently announced turbulence was not the first of the flight. I had taken melatonin early in the flight and after the announcement finished I closed my eyes, trying to rest and ignore the jarring movements of the plane when suddenly the plan bumped violently in the air for a minute before settling. Patrick glanced at me, his knuckles clutching the armrest. I opened my mouth to say something calming, but I didn't have time to speak before we hit another large bump and the back half of the plane tore off in midair. Wind rushed in the cabin and oxygen masks came down. I grasped out for the mask and pull it down to cover my face. And then the plane was plummeting downward and everything went black.

I was awake now. The chaos is everywhere, and so I push away my worries about Patrick and enter emergency mode. I turn my brain off and I survey the surroundings again. There was a man lying on the ground between me and the wreckage. He wasn't moving. I sprang into action and ran over to help him. When I reached him, I knelt next to his still body.

I shook him forcefully "Hey! Are you okay?"

He doesn't stir. I put my finger to his wrist to feel for a pulse and watch his chest, looking for it to rise and fall. He wasn't breathing, and I found no pulse, so I started CPR. 15 compressions and two breaths. I know the pattern well. I repeat the pattern, 15 compressions, and two breaths. The pattern becomes a rhythm in my mind as I try not to think. This was the first time I have ever done this on a living person. I had practiced on plenty of dummies before, but I had never had to do it for real, is this type of situation before. I just keep going, 15 compressions and two breaths. Stick to the pattern and don't freak out. Luckily, I stay calm in the face of disaster. Desensitization will do that to you. The process is tiring, but I don't stop. My labor is rewarded after what seems like an eternity when the man stirs. It is only now that I take a proper look at him. He appears to be relatively young, too young for this to be a heart attack. Most likely the stress of the crash stopped his heart.

He slowly sits up, and I help him gently "Are you okay? How do you feel?"

His hand went to his chest, and he grunted and looked around, a confused look on his face. "Our plane crashed," I explained. "I don't think you're injured. When I found you, your heart wasn't beating. Probably the stress of the crash did that. I did CPR, so that's why your chest hurts." I tell him the information slowly, taking his wrist halfway through to cheek his pulse again.

"Like shit," he said with a Southern accent, surveying the wreck. He seemed okay now, less disorientated.

"Yeah, I bet," I said with a laugh "But I'm glad you're okay ..."

"Sawyer," he said.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Samantha, Sam" I introduce, before sitting back on the beach. "Are you feeling okay now?" I ask him.

"Just peachy, besides having just been in a plane crash." he drawls.

"Fair enough. I'm going to go see what else I can do, but take it easy." I tell him before jogging off.

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By the time I reach the rest of the group everything appears to have calmed down. Everyone is still panicked, but nobody seems to be severely injured. I talk with few people and find out that a doctor on board had helped care for the injuries. I still have not caught sight of my brother, and now that everything is calmer, it's harder not to worry. The crowded beach only makes me more anxious, and I make a beeline for a secluded clearing not far away. I needed a minute alone to gather my thoughts and breath. Once I break away, I lean my head against a tree and take a deep breath. My peace does not last long.

"Hey, you? Have you ever used a needle?" a voice calls out. I look up and see a man standing with a white shirt, soaked in his own blood.

I nod "I've done my share of stitches." One specific incident of this comes to mind that makes me shudder, but I push it to the back of my mind.

"Great, Can you?" he asks pointing to his back and handing me a small sewing kit. He takes off his shirt to show a large gash that slices through his torso.

"Sure," I say, grabbing the kit from him. "You do realize this will hurt like hell, though. Without any medicine to numb the pain? I've seen a lot of people insist that they will be fine getting stitches without anything to numb the pain. They always regret it." I warn him. I know it is necessary that I do this, but I want him to be prepared, if only so I don't mess up.

"I know. I'm a doctor," he tells me. "If we had any lidocaine I would use it, but considering the circumstances…"

"I didn't realize you were the doctor here," I say while I prep the needle. I glance sideways, embarrassed that I just explained that stitches hurt to a doctor.

"Yeah, well, you couldn't have known," he said good-naturedly "I'm Jack, by the way," he introduces.

"I'm Samantha, but call me Sam. Everyone does." I say. As I am speaking, I start to weave the needle through his skin. He winced and tensed up as I stitch, but he managed to stay surprisingly calm and still. "Well, Jack, you are an excellent patient. I'm surprised, most doctors don't tend to be."

He chuckles "I'm hardly the exception. So, Sam, are you a doctor too?"

"No, close though. I'm a Physician Assistant. But I learned how to stitch before I went to P.A. school." I finish closing the wound and I tie it off.

"We need to find some bandages to cover this up with, so it doesn't get infected," I tell him.

"I can take care of it, but thank you for your help," he said. "You look a bit like you are in shock. Are you okay?"

"It's just been a crazy day, and I can't find my brother," I explain. "Have you seen him? We kind of look alike, but he is taller than me." I describe my brother to Jack.

"I can't say for sure, I've seen a lot of people. But I am sure he is fine," he assures me despite the fact that he has no evidence to back up his claim. "Come on, I'll help you look for him," Jack says, slowly standing up.

I thank him, and we walk back to the beach together. When we first crashed it was afternoon, but now the light is fading from the sky and the day is shifting towards evening.

When we get back to the beach, everyone is more subdued. People have divided up into smaller groups of others they know. We take a surprisingly short amount of time to find Patrick. He is standing on the beach alone, looking around with a frightened look on his face. I let out a sigh of relief. I run over to my brother and squeeze my arms around him.

"Thank God you're okay. I was so worried." I whisper in his ear.

"I was worried too" he confesses and we separate. "Are you okay?" he asks.

I nod "I'm fine, what about you? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, a bit shaken, but fine," he assures me. "Although I think we missed our connection." he quips.

I let out a puff of laughter "You think? I don't know… maybe we can still make it." Remembering that Jack was with me, I turn and find him standing nearby. "This is my brother, Patrick. Patrick, this is Jack." I introduce the two.

"I'm glad you're both okay," Jack says. "I am going to go see how everyone else is doing, but it was nice meeting you."

"Cool man, see you around," Patrick says, and I bid him goodbye.

"Who was that?" Patrick asks once Jack is out of earshot.

"That's Jack, he's a doctor. I stitched him up, he got a pretty nasty cut." I explain. "Why do you figure we weren't together after the plane crashed?" I ask. "I mean, I don't remember actually going down. I remember the turbulence and the plane coming apart, but nothing after that. But you would think that if we were sitting together, we would still be nearby after the crash."

"The plane broke apart, and you just flew through the air. We were pretty low down when it happened, but then I blacked out and when I woke up I was in the middle of everything and you were nowhere." Patrick tells me, his voice strained.

"Yeah, well, it's okay now. Recuse should come soon." I squeeze my arm around his shoulders in a comforting gesture.

Not far away there is a large fire with most of the other passengers crowded around it. "We should head over there" Patrick suggests. "It's good for us all to stick together." I agree and we walk towards the fire together. We sit down next to the fire, leaning against some stray bags. We make light conversation with some other passengers.

A man approaches us with some packages of plane meals. "Hey dudes, I'm Hurley, are you hungry?" he asked

I feel my stomach rumble and I notice that I am hungry "I am, thank you, Hurley. I'm Samantha, but I go by Sam."

"I'm Patrick, her brother," Patrick introduced "Thanks for getting us food."

"No problem dudes," he said before handing us two meals and walking off to deliver more food. The food was far from appetizing, it was cold and it was airplane food so this didn't come as a shock. But it was filling, and we needed it.

"You know, I did CPR on a real person for the first time today," I said to Patrick.

"Wow, did they live?" Patrick asked humorously.

"Yes, he lived," I said indignantly. "I'm glad you have so much faith in me"

Patrick laughed "I have faith in you, I'm just messing with you. If my heart ever stops, I'd trust you to restart it," he said.

"Well, thanks, that means so much," I remark sarcastically. "It's not like you could object."

Suddenly there was a loud noise coming from the jungle. It was knocking down trees, and I could hear it grow closer. My first thought was that it was some sort of animal, but the mechanical clicking noises it made suggested something different. Everyone moves to the edge of the jungle and we stand there, staring into the dark trees.

"What is that thing?" one survivor asked, but their question was met with silence. No one had an answer.

Later, as the night grew darker, another man, named Boone, came around and handed them some blankets. I pulled a blanket around myself and rested her eyes. Within minutes, I was asleep.

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The next morning I woke up with sunlight shining brightly in my eyes. It was morning. I stretch out and brush the sand off of me. Most people are already up, although nobody looks happy about it.

Patrick is already awake, and he has two apples and two individual-sized boxes of cereal in his hand "Breakfast?" he offers and I take the food he offers. He doesn't talk to me while I eat- a smart decision. I am not a morning person and I need time to wake up before I am a person who anyone wants to interact with. I am more awake after I eat.

"How come one has come yet?" I ask him. "I mean, it's been all night. Rescue should have come."

"I don't know," he answers honestly. "But for now, we just have to make due. Surely the will be here soon," he says not sounding convinced.

Jack walks up to us "Hey, we are going into the jungle to look for the cockpit so we can find the transceiver and maybe get in contact with some rescue. There is a man who's injured really badly. He has some shrapnel in him and I can't leave him alone. I wanted to ask if you could take care of him while I am gone."

"Of course, how is he doing?"

"I'll tell you while we walk. Let me show you where I have him resting."

I stand to follow him "I'll see you later, okay?" I address Patrick.

"Sounds good, bye," Patrick says and we depart.

He fills me in on the man's condition as we walk, and before seeing him I can tell it is not good. The man in Jack's tent only confirms my assessment.

"If rescue doesn't come soon, that is going to have to come out," I say, pointing to the large piece of shrapnel lodged in the man's chest.

"I know, I didn't take it out last night because I though rescue would be here by now. But if no one shows up soon we are going to have to," he says grimly.

"Well, he seems stable right now. Let's just take this one step at a time." I say.

"That's all we can do," he says. "Thanks for helping with this."

"That's my job." I joke. "Be careful out there," I say, seriously. "We don't know what we heard last night"

"We'll be fine" Jack assures me

"Who else is going."

"Just me and one other person. Kate. I don't think you've met her."

"Well, I hope you guys find something. For everyone's sake." I glance at the man on the ground as I say this.

"Me too," Jack says, his gaze meeting mine for a moment before he walks off.

There is not much to do for John Doe. The wound is about as clean as it can be, and all I can really do is keep him hydrated. He is barely able to swallow the water, but even unconscious, instinct allows him to do this. I leave the tent, planning to check on him again in an hour. I decide to take a walk on the beach and I end up running into a young pregnant woman sitting on the beach and staring into the waves. Her hand is resting on her stomach.

"Hey, I'm Sam." I introduce myself.

"I'm Claire," she said "Nice to meet you." she extends a hand in greeting and I take it before sitting down next to her. There is a slight accent in her voice.

"How are you doing?" I ask her.

"Oh, well, I'm fine," she says "But the baby hasn't kicked since before the crash, isn't that bad?" she asks, fear clear in her voice.

I place a comforting hand on her shoulder "You're right, it's not good. But it's not terrible either. In a traumatic event like this, the baby is probably just a little too shaken up to be moving around a lot. And with how far along you are, the baby's is stronger than you think." I tell her. "Just take care of yourself. That's the best way you can help your baby right now."

She smiles at me "Thanks Sam, I needed to hear that."

"I am just giving you the facts, but you're welcome." I hand her a bottle of water "Now, drink this, it's important to stay hydrated"

Claire takes the bottle from me and thanks me. I sit and chat with her for a while more and it seems to comfort her. After we finish talking, I head back to the tent with John Doe. He is still in pretty out of it and his condition hasn't changed. He keeps mumbling something about how "she is dangerous" but I don't know what that means. I don't pay his words much credence as he is feverish and confused.

Jack comes into the tent, looking shaken.

"About the same, I gave him some water but there's not much else we can do right now," I say "Did you guys find anything out there?" I ask.

"We got the transceiver, but it's not working. Sayid is working to fix it." he tells me. He lowers his voice "We saw something else out there, I think it was the thing we heard last night. It killed the pilot. We are trying not to tell people, but you seem to have a level head. I thought you deserved to know.

I wrap my arms around my chest "Thank you for telling me. Did you get a good look at it?"

Jack shakes his head "Not, really. We need to take this out" he says gesturing at the shrapnel in the man's chest.

"He'll never survive that." I protest.

"He won't survive if we leave it in. Taking it out is the only way we give him a chance." Jack argues.

"Okay, if that's what you think is best, then I trust you. What do you need me to do?"

"Go get bandages and antibiotics, look around the fuselage. There might be some stuff in the baggage there. Maybe even a first aid kit. I'll ask around and see of anyone has anything like that. Then we will meet back here."

"Okay, I'll do that" I agree and we both head off.

I walk over to the fuselage and climb in. I don't find a ton of things that will be useful. Most of the antibiotics I find are not very strong, nowhere close to the stuff John Doe will need. I find a good amount of gauze and bandages in some medical kits, and I take that along with the small supply of antibiotics I have. There are a few small bottles of hydrogen peroxide, which will be useful, but there are none of the large-sized drugstore bottles that would provide the amount we really need. Airplane precautions prevent that amount of liquid. I am about halfway through the plane when I hear a noise of something, or someone, rummaging deeper in the wreckage. My heart speeds up in my chest, but I brush it away. It's just the wreckage moving.

I return to my search when Sawyer walks out of the back of the plane "I didn't take you as the looter type." he says.

I nearly jump up and turn around, nearly dropping my stuff "Jesus Christ, you scared me half to death" I exclaimed, my breath catching in my throat. "And I'm not looting. We are going to take that shrapnel out of John Doe's chest, and he's going to need this."

"You a doctor too?" he asks.

"Kinda," I tell him. I don't bother with an explanation, doubting he really cares. "Do you have anything like bandages, medicine, hydrogen peroxide is your little stash of stuff?" I ask.

Sawyer considers for a moment before tossing me a bottle of hydrogen peroxide "Here" he says before walking off, without saying anything. I return to Jack with the supplies.

"Here's the plan," Jack says when I return. "I'm going to take this out of him. I need you to hold him steady around the shrapnel and make sure he doesn't move. Once I get it out, I need you to be ready to pack the injury to stop the bleeding. Once the bleeding is under control we can clean it, stitch it, and bandage it."

"Okay, good plan. Let's do it." I say and I take my place, placing steady pressure around the wound. Jack pulls the shrapnel out and the pain on the man's face grows and he starts moving, trying to get away from the pain. I hold him down until Jack gets it out. Once the shrapnel is removed, he calms down and stills. I put gauze over to the wound to stop the bleeding and continue to add gauze and pressure. Jack does the same thing and soon we have the bleeding under control. We carefully remove the dirty gauze and clean the wound out with hydrogen peroxide. When it is as clean as it can be, Jack stitches the wound up before covering it with a clean layer of bandage.

The man stayed unconscious through all of this, or maybe just barely conscious. He's feverish and mumbling incomprehensible nonsense.

"You should get some air," Jack recommends once we finished. "You looked after him all this morning. I can take over now."

"I will, thanks. If you need any more help, find me" I instruct.

"I will" Jack agrees. 

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I leave the tent and see a group of people gathered together at the edge of the jungle. Boone, a woman with short blond hair, a pale blonde man , and a middle eastern looking man stand together. I head over to the group to introduce myself.

I learn the blonde women's name is Shannon, and Boone and she are siblings. The middle eastern man's name is Sayid, the same guy Jack said was fixing the transceiver they found. The blond man is Charlie. It turns out that Sayid fixed the transceiver, but now they need to boost the signal because the ground here is too low. I decide to join them.

"Can I come with?" I ask Sayid.

"Yes, anyone is welcome to join. But you need to be ready to leave soon," he tells me.

"Great, I can leave pretty much right away. I just have to do something real quick, I'll be right back," I tell him.

"Very well, we will wait for you." he agrees.

I find Patrick sitting outside of a tent he built.

"Hey, I made a tent, and I found our stuff," he says.

"That's great," I say. I look through my suitcase and find a pair of sneakers to wear.

"Jack found the transceiver in the plane this morning and that middle eastern guy, Sayid, he fixed. He and a few others are going to find some high ground to boost the signal, it doesn't work down here. I'm going with them." I tell him while I put my shoes on.

"Okay, good luck. And stay safe. That thing we heard last night doesn't seem like something you should mess with."

"I'll be careful," I assure him. "Do you want to come?"

"No, I think I'll sit this one out."

"Okay, see you then. I've gotta go." I say before walking off. "Oh, and if Jack needs me to him where I went. It shouldn't take long." I call out before heading back to catch up with the group.

When I get back, a brunette woman with curly hair is there with the group. That must be Kate. We are already in the jungle when Sawyer catches up with us.

"I see you decide to join us," Kate says to him as he pushes past us to get to the front of the pack.

"I'm a complex guy, sweetheart" Sawyer calls back and Kate rolls her eyes.

As we walk the trail grows more narrow and our group separates out into pairs. I end up falling in pace with Sawyer "I didn't pin you for the guy who likes to go on hikes through the jungle" I say as we walk.

"Well, you don't know me very well princess," he says, his tone slightly mocking.

"Fair enough, but I'm usually pretty good at reading people," I tell him.

"Really, and why's that?" he asks.

"My mom was a shrink, that might have something to do with it," I tell him.

He laughs at that "Well, I'm sure you had a fun-filled childhood"

I don't respond right away. He hits the nail on the head, but he's wrong to think it was my mother's fault. My life was good when she was still around. But brush it off with a laugh and change the subject.

We hike for a while before we get to a steep mountain terrain that we climb up. It gets harder to climb as we get higher, but I don't struggle too much. I've always been good at climbing. Nobody talks much on the way up, everyone is saving their energy to climb. We use dirt and tree roots to pull ourselves up. I reach the top first and offer my hand to help Shannon up. Boone and Sawyer follow close after. Sawyer helps Kate up just as Sayid reaches the top just before Charlie.

We take a moment to catch our breaths and get some water at the top before moving on. We don't walk far before Sawyer suggests that we check the radio.

"We aren't high enough yet," I say.

"Well, he could at least check it," Sawyer suggests.

"I don't want to waste the battery," Sayid explains calmly.

"Just try it," Sawyer tells him angrily.

"We might get blocked by the mountains, now is not—"

"Just check the damn radio" Sawyer shouts, cutting him off. I try not to roll my eyes at this childish argument happening before me.

"If I just check, we might run out of juice before—" Sayid shouts when a loud noise comes from the jungle. It sounds like the roar of an animal and I back up, prepared to run if I have to. The noise gets louder and louder and whatever it is, it's coming straight towards us. We all take off in the same direction, away from the animal. Everyone is shouting behind me, and I turn around. Sawyer hasn't moved, and we are all frozen.

"What, are you crazy? Run!" I shout at him, running towards him to knock some sense into him. It's the gunshots that stop me in my tracks. Sawyer holds up a gun and is shooting it at the thing running towards us. Even as he shots, it still comes closer. I see a flash of white fur and there is a final gunshot bring the creature down. I walk over to see what it is. It's a large polar bear, blood in its fur, still breathing. If I didn't see it with my own eyes, I wouldn't believe it was there.

"It's a polar bear," I say in shock.

"Brilliant observation, grey eyes," Sawyer says. He looks upon the fallen creature proudly.

"Do you think that's what killed the pilot?" Boone asks.

"No, that's a tiny, tiny version compared to that," Charlie says.

Boone knells down to examine it "That can't be a polar bear."

"It's a polar bear," we all say in unison.

"Polar bears don't live in the jungle," Shannon says shakily.

"Polar bears don't live anywhere close to the equator," Sayid agrees.

Boone indicates the dead bear, "This one does."

"Did, this one did" Sawyer says, reminding us that he killed the bear.

"Where did that come from?" Kate asks accusingly.

"Probably bear village. How the hell do I know," Sawyer remarks.

"She means the gun." I clarify. Everyone stares at Sawyer, waiting for an explanation.

"I got it off one of the bodies," Sawyer says.

"People can't carry guns on planes," I say.

"U.S. Marshals do, sweetheart," Sawyer shoots back.

"How do you know he was a U.S. Marshal?" Kate asks, a barely noticeable undertone of fear colors her voice.

"I saw a guy lying there with an ankle holster, so I took the gun. Thought it might come in handy. Guess what? I just shot a bear!"

"So why do you think he's a marshal?" Kate pushes.

Sawyer looks at the sky and rolls his eyes "Cause he had a clip-on badge. I took that too, thought it was cool." he holds up the badge for everyone to see.

"I know who you are," Sayid says darkly, taking a step forward. "You're the prisoner."

"I'm the what?"

"You found the gun on a U.S. marshal. Yes, I believe you did. You know where it was because you were the one he was taking back to the states. Those handcuffs were on you. That's how you knew where the gun was." Sayid seethes, glaring at Sawyer.

"Piss off," Sawyer shouts back.

"That's who you are, you son of a bitch!" Sayid yells.

"You two need to calm down," I interject before Sawyer can say something more. "It doesn't help us to jump to conclusions, and whether you like him or not, he just saved all of our asses," I tell Sayid. They both glare at me.

Suddenly, Kate moves towards quickly and takes the gun from Sawyer before moving back and pointing it at him "How do you use a gun?" she asks.

"I think you just pull the trigger," Charlie says, making a shooting motion with his hands.

"Not to shot it, I want to take it apart," Kate says.

Sayid explains how to disarm the gun and Kate follows his instructions. She puts on a convincing act of not being able to use a gun, but she follows Sayid's instructions a little too quickly to be telling the truth. She knows her way around a gun. After she disarms the gun, Kate gives it back to Sawyer. He grabs her arm and says something in a low voice to her and she pulls away. We continue on our way.

We get to a clearing when Sayid stops to check the radio.

"Oh, so now's a good time to check the radio. Not before, but now," Sawyer rants.

"Yeah, because checking it out earlier would have worked out amazingly," I comment. Sayid doesn't say anything, he is focused on the radio.

"We have a bar!" Sayid shouts, excited.

We all crowd around Sayid as he tunes the transceiver, looking for something other than static. It screeches loudly.

"Its feedback," Sayid tells us.

"Feedback from what?" Kate asks "What would do that?"

"I'll tell you what would do that, him not fixing the radio. The damn thing doesn't even work," Sawyer says, walking away.

"Shut up" Kate snaps at him.

"No, no, no, no, no. It's not broken." Sayid says. We all look at him for more information. "We can't transmit because something else is already transmitting."

"Transmitting from where? From here?" Charlie asks.

"What would be transmitting from here?" Kate questions.

Sayid fiddles with the radio.

"Can you pick it up?" I ask.

"I think so if I can get the frequency. Hold on." Sayid says. He turns some knobs on the radio.

"There's no transmission," Sawyer says scornfully.

"Shut up!" Kate and I both snap at him, and he stops talking.

"It's a rescue party, it has to be." Charlie theorizes. Sayid finds the frequency and a woman's voice come on the radio, speaking in French.

"It's French!" Charlie calls out, a big smile on his face "The French are coming. I've never been so happy to hear the bloody French!"

"I never took French," Kate says, looking around. "What's she saying?"

"Does anybody speak French?" Sayid asks frantically.

"She does," Boone says, pointing at Shannon.

"No, I don't. What?" Shannon contradicts.

Boone walks towards her angrily "What the hell are you talking about, you spent a year in Paris!"

"Drinking, not studying!"

"Oh no, no, no, no, no, no," Sayid panics. "The batteries are dying."

"How much time do we have?" Kate asks, anxiously.

"Not much," Sayid tells us. Boone and Shannon continue arguing about whether or not she speaks French and Sawyer cuts in.

"Do you speak Frech or not, because that would be really nice."

"Shannon, just try." I implore her. "Just calm down and listen."

"It's, It's repeating," she says, her voice shaking.

"She's right." Sayid her up. "It's a loop. Iteration- it's repeating the same message. It's a counter. The next number will end… 533."

"Iteration 17294531533"

"Does anyone else know what the hell he's talking about?" Sawyer asks.

"That number, it's the number of times the message has been repeated," I deduce. Sayid starts mumbling some math to himself, and I take the transceiver from him and hand it to Shannon.

"She's saying, 'Please' she's saying 'please help me. Please come get me, " Shannon says, close to tears.

"Or she's not, you don't even speak French," Sawyer yells at her.

"Let her listen" Kate shouts at him.

"Shut up, man," Boone yells.

Shannon holds the radio to her ear and continues translating, her voice shaking "I'm alone now, I'm on the island alone. Please, someone, come. The others. They're dead. It killed them, it killed them all"

The battery dies, and everyone is silent now. Sayid breaks the silence "16 years"

"What?" Sawyer asks, confused.

"16 years, and five months. The iterations. That's the count."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Boone asks.

If my math is correct, this message has been playing on a loop. Over and over for 16 years".

I can't believe what I'm hearing. We all look at each other, scared.

"Someone else was stranded here?" Boone says slowly.

"Maybe they came for them," I suggest.

Sawyer raises the question, "If someone came, why is it still playing?"

And Charlie asks the biggest question of all "Guys, where are we?"


	2. Chapter Two: Tabula Rasa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, here is the second chapter. So sorry I didn't post it the other day, I meant to but I forgot. Thank you to those who read and left kudos. Please enjoy :).

We hiked back in near silence. No one had said much since we heard the transmission. As we walked, my head was spinning with possible logical explanations. Maybe whoever she was, she got rescued, but never had time to turn it off. Maybe she forgot about it. Maybe the count was off. A lot of maybes of better explanations for what just happened. And part of me thought they were right, or maybe I just wanted them to be. It was a logical explanation that made sense. But a bigger part of me couldn't stop thinking of the alternative. The illogical and much more scary and much less maybe.

The light had barely started to seep from the sky when Boone said, "It's getting dark. "

"Then pick up the pace," Sawyer says roughly.

Sayid went to the front of the group and stopped "We should make camp."

"It's not that dark yet, we can make it back." I tell him.

"We don't want to be hiking in the dark." Sayid warned.

"Ooh, afraid the trees are going to get us?" Sawyer remarked.

"It's not that dark yet, we should try to make it back," I argue.

"No. What is knocking down the trees will get you." Sayid said ominously.

"Well, if you're so worried about me, how about giving me the clip back?" Sawyer says, holding up the gun.

"Yes, because one bullet will protect you from another polar bear or whatever else is out there." I retort.

"Sayid's right, you keep walking, you're not going to make it back to the beach." Kate tells Sawyer.

"Yeah, why's that?" he asks her, an arrogant smile on his face.

"Trust me." Kate says, her voice steady and serious. Sawyer drops the issue and we start making camp.

We gather wood to make a fire, and soon it is dark. We all gather around the fire, the only source of light and heat.

Sayid gives us a play-by-play of our current situation, and Kate concludes with the fact that we are over 1,000 miles off course.

"But they'll find us," Charlie insists "they have satellites that can take pictures of your license plate"

"If only we were all wearing license plates," Sayid quips.

"Well, aren't you the pessimist," Charlie sulks.

"Satellites have to be told to take pictures of things, like license plates. It's not a matter of ability to take a picture of us, but taking it at all. No one knows where we are to take a picture of us, " I explain.

"Okay, really enjoyed the puppet show. Fantastic. So we're stuck in the middle of damn nowhere. Why don't we talk about that other thing? You know the transmission Abdul picked up on his little radio. The one with the French chick that says their all dead," Sawyer says, and the mood turns sober.

"The transmission's been on a loop for, how long has that been going on for, freckles?"

"16 years" Kate provides.

"Right. Let's about we talk about that?"

"Well, maybe there's a logical explanation-" I start to say, but Sawyer cuts me off.

"And what would that be Sherlock?"

"Well, maybe she was rescued quickly and didn't have time to turn it off, or she forgot, " I suggest weakly.

"Do you really believe that?" Kate asks me.

"I don't know."

"Well, whatever the explanation, we have to tell the others when we get back," Boone says.

"Tell them what exactly?" Shannon cuts in, annoyed. "You didn't hear anything and I'm not a stupid translator".

"No one is telling anyone anything" Sayid raises his voice, silencing Shannon and Boone.

"To relay what we heard without fully understanding it would create a panic. It would take away the others' hope. And hope is a dangerous thing to lose". He's right, and I think we all know it. Telling the group will cause a panic, and there is no good in that.

"So we lie" Kate concludes. No one has anything else to say.

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I fall into a light sleep and about halfway through the night I wake up to voices. I stand up, instantly on alert.

"You took my gun off me boy?" Sawyer asks Boone, glaring at him.

"Please, you've never even held a gun. He doesn't believe in guns. He goes on marches" Shannon yells at Boone.

"I don't go on marches" Boone scoffs.

"It's more dangerous for all of us for you to be holding the gun if you don't know how to use it. Either put it away ot give it to someone who can use a gun. " I tell Boone.

"Give it back to me" Sayid commands, extending his hand.

"Oh yeah, give it to Al Jazeera. He'll protect us" Sawyer remarks.

"Al Jazeera is a network" Charlie mumbles.

"I'll keep the damn gun." Boone says decisively.

"We should give it to her" Shannon proclaims, looking at Kate, who has remained silent through this whole conversation.

"Yeah, Kate should have the gun." Charlie says, sounding very pleased by this solution.

"Fine by me" I simply say, I don't want the responsibility. Boone stalks over and gives the gun to Kate.

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The sun wakes us up early the next morning and we start our hike back to the camp. Sawyer comes up beside me as we are walking.

"So, bigshot. Do you really believe it?"

"Belive what?" I ask him, pulling the straps of my backpack.

"What you said last night, about the French chick and the transmission"

"It makes sense," I reply

"That may be true, but that's not what I asked, grey eyes," he says in return.

I shrug my shoulders "I don't know, it's the only thing that makes sense. Why shouldn't I believe it? I mean, what are the odds that no one came for her in 16 years?"

"You still haven't answered the question. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were avoiding it," he presses.

"Maybe I am, but we've been here what? Three days? I think I'm going to avoid the question of if we are going to be stuck here forever for a little longer"

Sawyer chuckles "You've got me there, grey eyes"

When we get back, Sayid announces that we didn't find anything, but he implores the group not to give up hope. I walk off to find Patrick. He's at the edge of the group and he greets me with a hug when he sees me.

"I was worried when you didn't come back last night," he tells me, quietly.

"We were fine, just didn't want to go hiking through the woods at night. Sorry to worry you though." I don't tell him about the bear or the transmission, and I don't know why I don't. Maybe it's because I'm still confused about it all myself. Maybe it's because I know he's already upset about the plane crash, and I don't want to give him more to worry about. Either way, I decide to keep silent on the topic. At least for now.

I chat with Patrick for a little before heading over to Jack's tent where the injured man is. Just by looking at him, I can tell he's not doing well. He is clearly in a lot of pain, and he has an infection. I sit with him and give him some water.

When Jack enters the tent, he looks haggard. "Hey Sam, are you okay?"

"As good as I can be. How's he?"

"He's not doing well. His wound was infected, and it is speeding. I've given him so antibiotics, but none of them are strong enough. His fevers pushing 104, he's bleeding internally, and his abdomen is rigid". His voice is a mixture of hopelessness and determination, and I don't know where the determination comes from considering the fact that he basically given this guy a death sentence. The infection can kill him, we don't have the antibiotics to fight it. The internal bleeding can kill him, we can't fix that here. The fever can kill him. Even if we got him to the hospital right now, he could still die.

"Jack, he's going to die."

"I'm not just going to let him die," Jack responds angrily.

"Jack, you wouldn't just be letting him die. I would never suggest that. You've done so much already, just keeping him alive this long. Even if we got rescued right now, we might not be able to save him. You know that as well as I do.

"He needs water, and he needs to swallow these antibiotics. They are a little stronger, the could help him. Now, are you with me? I could really use your help, " Jack persists.

I sigh, but I help him. We can buy him time, but we can't save him. I just hope Jack realizes that soon.

The day is long; I drift in and out of the tent, helping Jack when I can. When I get a break, I check on Claire.

"Hey, how is everything?" I ask her.

"It's good. Really good, actually. The baby kicked yesterday. He's going to be okay." Claire tells me, smiling widely.

"That's amazing, I'm really glad to hear it. Remember, if you need anything come and find me." I tell her.

"I will, thank you." she replies. One of her hands rests on her belly and she has a faint smile on her face.

Jack and I take turns tending to John Doe. As the day drags on, his pain becomes noticeably worse and he starts groaning and shouting with pain. It's quiet at first, but it grows.

During one of my breaks, I am talking to Patrick and he looks physically ill at the sound of the man's pain. He's never been good with this type of stuff, pain and sickness. He is not engaged in the conversation at all, but he needs the distraction.

He stands up, interrupting me mid-sentence "I'm going to go for a walk... or something" he says hastily before walking down the beach. I catch up to him.

"It will be over soon. I know it's awful, but it will be over soon. You go ahead, but I am here if you need me."

By evening, everyone else on the beach is noticeably upset. The cries have gotten worse and Jack is acting like it will somehow all be okay. They huddle together, mumbling to themselves about Jack and what he's doing. Patrick got back from his walk and is now sitting on the beach, away from the group, staring into the ocean. Jack walks out of the tent to refill the water. I catch him as he walks.

"Jack, he's suffering..." I say gently, trying to break him out of whatever mad illusion he is in.

"I know that Sam, what do you want me to do about that?" he cuts off angrily.

"Just, stop telling yourself you can fix him. You can't, let it go."

"What do you want me to do, huh? Just let him die, I'm a doctor." Jack says harshly.

"And that makes it your job to help him, not keep him alive in agony." I tell him quietly. "You know that I'm right."

Jack walks back into the tent without another word.

An hour passes and I pace on the beach, near the tent. Sawyer walks up to me "So, what's the deal with him?" he asks, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the tent.

"He going to die" I say simply. "There's no other way to look at it. Jack wants to save him, but we can't". The cries of pain continue, a constant background to every conversation.

Sawyer maintains his tough exterior, but I can tell even he is affected by the constant cries of pain "Isn't there a more humane way to do this?"

I shiver in the cold of the night "If you can think of a humane way to end his suffering, that we have at our disposal on this island, be my guest. But Jack will never go for it."

Sawyer walks off without another word. Jack isn't letting anyone help anymore, so I move away from the tent and build a fire to keep myself occupied, and to distract my mind. I sit down in front of my fire and seep in its warmth. I hear a bang come front the tent and I turn towards it in a whirl.

I see Sawyer walk out of the tent, carrying the gun.

"What did you do?!" Jack shouts, anger filling his features as he walks towards Sawyer. I rush to the scene and watch it play out.

"What you couldn't. Look, I get where you're coming from, being a doctor and all, but he asked for it. Hell, he begged me for it. So I don't like it anymore than you do, but something had to be done," Sawyer says, and he looks so utterly upset. He clearly didn't want to do this.

A choking noise comes from inside the tent. We all rush in, and there is blood pouring from his chest.

"You shot him in the chest?!" Jack accuses Sawyer, placing gauze to stop the bleeding.

I bend down to examine him. "I was aiming for his heart" I hear Sawyer say.

"It perforates his lung," I announce.

"It will take hours to bleed out!" Jack shouts at Sawyer, livid.

"I only had one bullet" Sawyer defends.

"Get out" Jack tells him flatly, and when Sawyer doesn't move to leave Jack shouts at him. Jack bends over the man and a look of realization comes over his face.

"I've got this, you can leave," he tells me flatly.

"Jack, I can do this." I tell him, knowing by the look on his face what he is planning on doing.

"No, I will do it. Please, just leave." he repeats and I walk out of the tent. I pace next to the tent, my hand on my head. The man's groans grow fainter and finally stop. After a moment, Jack comes out of the tent with a horrified look on his face and walks by without a word.

I walk into the tent and stare at the now dead body of a man I never knew. I sit there for a while, too long to be alone with a dead body, before shakily getting up and leaving. I am trembling as I walk out, but I calm myself down by the time I reach Patrick. He doesn't need me to be weak. I stay calm as I tell him what happened.

"I don't know how to feel." he tells me and I hug him.

"It will be okay, I'll go get us some food. It will be better in the morning." I assure him.

I walk over to the food tent to get us something to eat. As I walk there, I see Sawyer sitting by his fire, reading a letter. When he sees me, he stuffs it back into an envelope.

"You did the right thing" I tell him.

"I don't need your pity," he sneers.

"Well, that's good, because I'm not trying to give you any. He was suffering. You did what had to be done. That could have gone on for days. No one deserves to suffer like that. If it was me in that tent, I would have wanted you to do the same thing.

"I'll keep that in mind, for future reference" Sawyer says gruffly.

I laugh a little "Hopefully I won't ever have to hold you to that"

"Thanks, grey eyes" he says, and I can see something akin to relief on his face.

"Anytime" I say with a smile before walking off.

There's not much food left, and I get us each a container of what looks like chicken with rice and a couple of oranges. It's not a feast, but it will do. If this is the last of the food, we'll have to figure something else out soon. As Patrick and I eat, we fantasize about what we could be eating back home, letting the remainder of this day to slip away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of chapter, so what did you think. Please, please, please, review. I love it. The next chapter should be up in a week.


	3. Chapter Three: Walkabout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, here is the next chapter. Thank you to those who read and left kudos on this last chapter. I hope you enjoy this :)

My palms are facing up and Patrick's hands are resting in mine as I try to hit his hands. His guard is on high, and he draws his hands back the second he feels mine move at all. I start moving my hands slightly, but not trying to hit him to get his guard down.

"We haven't done this since we were kids" I reminisce as we play.

"Yeah, well, if there's one we've got stranded on this island, it's time," Patrick says forlornly. I seize this moment to move my hands and hit him.

"Got you!" I exclaim victoriously.

Patrick glares at me "You cheated"

"Did not! Just because you stopped paying attention doesn't make me a cheater"

"Whatever," he says, scowling. "I'm bored of this game, anyway"

"Board now that you've lost" I mock.

"How long do you think we'll be here anyway?" he asks, changing the subject.

"I don't know, a while," I say with a sigh. I know I need to tell him about the transmission. We may have agreed not to tell anyone, but I can't keep secrets from my brother.

"It's weird that no one has come yet, don't you think? It's been what? three or four days? Why has no one come?" Patricks ponders out loud.

"I think I know why no one's come" I admit. Patrick raises his eyebrows at me and I tell him everything. About how we are over 1,000 miles off course, about the transmission Sayid picked up, and the polar bear we saw.

After I finish talking Patrick is silent for a moment "There shouldn't be a polar bear here." he finally says. "I mean out of everything you told me, that's honestly the strangest thing. Like there could be a lot of reason for the transmission and the fact that we are so off course sucks, but it's not a mystery. But it's warm here, I mean it cools down at night, but it never gets that cold. Polar bears live in the Arctic, we are on a tropical island. There's no way a polar bear should be able to survive here. They have thick coats. Not to mention how it would get here".

I nod in agreement "That's what I thought! Everyone else who was there was like 'oh look a polar bear, how strange. Now let's move on and forget about it like it's nothing'. Although the transmission thing was kind of spooky."

"My theory, aliens," Patrick deadpans, "You know they built the pyramids, right?"

"No, no, you've got it all wrong. The truth is, there's a secret society of polar bears living underground, and in their underground fortress it's always cold, and they sometimes emerge to the world above" I counter.

"How come they are never in the real world then?" Patrick challenges.

"Because they don't want general society to know about them". For the rest of the day, we trade ridiculous theories and joke around. Neither of us says another word about the other things I mentioned. It's easy enough to avoid the topic, and it's not like there's anything we can do about it. 

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That night as we settle down to sleep, Vincent starts barking like crazy. The noise is enough to keep everyone awake, and people stir restlessly, clearly annoyed. While part of me is annoyed and just wants to sleep, the other part of me is concerned about what he is barking at. I've met Vincent, and he seems like he is a relatively calm and sensible dog. He wouldn't be barking like this if there was nothing to be barking at. His barking continues for a few more minutes until a sound in the fuselage reveals itself as the source of Vincent's distress. I get up to investigate.

Everyone gathers around the fuselage and listens to the rustling noise from within.

"Something's in there," an accented voice says. Claire.

"Everyone in there's dead," says Sayid.

"Sawyer," Jack says, as an explanation. Yeah, that makes sense. Because Vincent is losing his shit over someone he knows.

"Right behind you, Jackass," Sawyer says, scowling at Jack.

The rustling continues and Jack steps forward to investigate and is soon followed by Kate, Sawyer, and Charlie. I stay behind and place myself in front of my brother. Sawyer holds a large flashlight which illuminates their path. They draw closer and when Sawyers flashlight shines on the creature; it lets out an animalistic noise.

"Run!" Jack shouts and chaos ensues. Everyone scatters, running in different directions and taking cover. I start to run, but I see Patrick standing still, frozen in place.

I grab his arm "Come on" I urge, pulling him with me. I only have to drag him a few steps before he snaps out of it and starts running. We duck down behind some wreckage pieces and the animals run off into the night.

We a regroup. "What the bloody hell was that?" Charlie asks.

"Boars," a bald man says softly with a strange smile on his face.

After the scare is over, most people go back to trying to get some sleep, but I stick with Jack to see if anyone needs medical assistance. Charlie got a gash on his side, but everyone else seems fine. Jack tends to Charlie's injury and Sayid, Kate, and I gather in the tent around him.

"Those boars were looking to feed, we need to get rid of the bodies," Jack says while he works.

"Bury them? There's a whole bunch in there," Charlie says. He winces as Jack dabs at his wound.

"Over 20," Sayid tells us. I wonder briefly why he knows the body count. "Digging will be difficult without shovels- " he starts to say

"Not bury" Jack interrupts "We need to burn them"

"They're people," Kate says, sounding horrified.

"I know they're people, Kate," Jack says, sounding frustrated.

"Burning their remains, they deserve better than that" Sayid says solemnly.

"We don't have a choice," I say. "There's no way we can bury them all, we don't even have shovels. We wouldn't be able to make the graves deep enough. The alternative is wild animals eat them. Is that what you want?" I argue, "Not to mention the fact that leaving their bodies here for the boars puts all of us at risk".

"That may be true, but it's not right" Sayid counters "For us to decide how these people are laid to rest, it's not right. No regard to their wishes? Their religions?"

"We don't have time to do everything the 'right' way," I tell him matter-of-factly.

"Really last I heard we were positively made of time" Charlie remarks.

"Look, I'm not happy about it either, but we crashed over 1,000 miles off course. They are looking for us in the wrong place. Tomorrow we need everyone to gather up wood, dried brush. We'll light the fire tomorrow night," Jack declares authoritatively before leaving the tent.

"If he's so eager to burn the bodies, why wait until sundown?" Charlie asks, a little behind.

"Because then maybe someone will see it," I tell him. I walk back to my tent and lie down, exhausted. Even though I didn't do any heavy labor today, recent events weigh heavily on my mind. The constant presence of virtual strangers as well as the ever-growing list of problems to deal with are exhausting. I close my eyes and relax while I still can. I know tomorrow will be another hectic day.

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The sun wakes me up at an ungodly hour. Unsurprisingly, Patrick is already up, looking bright and refreshed.

"There's no food left," he tells me when I walk out of the tent.

"Great, just perfect," I mutter angrily. "I thought we brought granola bars on the plane."

"We did, they are all gone now," he tells me. I frown at this.

"Well, everyone is collecting wood to help burn the fuselage later. I'll go help and leave you alone to wake up," Patrick says

I nod gratefully "Alright, I'll probably do the same in a bit. See you later?"

"Yeah, see you," Patrick replies before heading off.

The noise of the camp moving around me helps me wake up, and within 30 minutes I am collecting wood with the rest of the camp. There's a lot of loose brush near the edge of the jungle and I start methodically collecting that and bringing it back to the pile by the fuselage.

After depositing some brush on the pile, I am about to head back for more, what should be my last trip, when I hear shouting. I jog over to the source to find out what is going on. Most of the other survivors have also gathered around.

I arrive in time to see Jack breaking up a fight between Sawyer and Hurley.

"What's going on?" I ask.

"Jethro here is hoarding the last of the peanuts" Hurley shouts at Sawyer.

"My own stash, I found it in there" Sawyer defends angrily.

"What about the rest of the food?" Jack asks them.

"There is no rest of the food dude ... we kind of ate it all," Hurley informs. I shoot Hurley a stern look for revealing this information so cavalierly. I knew the food was running out, and so did everyone else. But to announce it like this is only going to cause people to panic. The others murmur about the information fearfully, and Jack tries to gain control of the situation.

"Okay, everyone, just calm down," Jack reassures. He sounds tired.

"We can find food, there are plenty of things on this island we can use as sustenance," Sayid tells us, walking around everyone in a circle.

"And exactly how are we going to find this 'sustenance'" Sawyer asks, sitting down on an airplane seat with his bag.

Not a moment after the words are out of his mouth, a knife goes whizzing through the air and hits the chair next to Sawyer. Everyone's eyes land on the knife before shifting to the direction it came from, to see who threw it. The same bald man who identified the boars last night is standing there "We hunt."

"How'd you get that on the plane?" Kate asks.

"Cheeked it"

Jack returns the man's knife "You either have very good aim or very bad aim Mr. ... "

"Locke. His name is Locke" Walt's father, Michael says.

"Okay, Mr. Locke, what is it that we are hunting?" Jack asks.

"We know there are wild boar on the island. Razorback by the look of them. The one's that came into the camp last night were piglets. 100, 150 pound each. Which means there's a mother nearby, a 250-pound rat with scimitar-like tusks, and a surly disposition who would like nothing more than to eviscerate anything comes near. Boars usual mode of attack is to circle up and charge from behind so I figure it will take three of us to distract her long enough for me to flank one of the piglets, pin it, and slit its throat" Locke says, his voice a mixture of knowledge and blood lust that makes me slightly concerned that he is armed.

"And you gave him his knife back?" Sawyer criticizes, probably rightfully so.

"Well, if you got a better idea...?" Jack asks, looking to Sawyer.

"Better than three of you going into the magic forest to bag a hunk of ham with nothing but an ity bity hunting knife? Hell no, it's the best idea I've ever heard."

With that all eyes drift to Locke who uses his foot to nudge open a silver case at his feet, revealing an array of knives. My eyes widen as I try to think about what possible reason this man could have to carry around a case of knives. From the looks on the others' faces, I can tell that everyone is thinking the same thing

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Kate and Micheal join Locke on the hunt. I stay behind and spend the day collecting wood. We are going to need a lot of it to burn the fuselage. I find a large piece of wood and drag it behind me, a rather ineffective mode of transport, but it works.

"Need some help with that, Princess?" Sawyer asks, coming up beside me.

I roll my eyes at his nickname but accept his help nonetheless "Sure, could you just grab the other end"? With the weight split between the two of us, it is much easier to carry.

"Shouldn't your little boyfriend be helping you with this?" Sawyer asks as we walk.

It takes me a minute to realize he's talking about Patrick and when I do I make a face "Ewe, no! You mean Patrick? He's my brother!" I correct emphatically.

Sawyer laughs as this "So where's your brother then? Don't you two usually stick together?"

I shrug my shoulders "Not always, I think he is collecting wood. I know he isn't hunting with Locke."

We get to the fuselage and set the log down. Once I am rid of the weight, I walk down the beach and sit down to take a break. Sawyer follows. I'm thirsty and hungry, but I can't do anything about the latter and I'm too lazy to get up to grab my water bottle right now. However, my body protests my passive stance, and my stomach grumbles audibly.

Sawyer raises his eyes in amusement "Hungry, grey eyes?"

"I'll be fine," I tell him. "Maybe I'll go find some fruit or something later, there's got to be some food on this island that's not alive."

"Hold your horses before you go prancing into the magical jungle. Wait here for a minute". He then gets up and walks away, returning after a few minutes carrying a bag. He reaches into the bag and tosses me a packet of peanuts from the airplane "Hope you're not allergic."

I smile "No, I love peanuts. Thank you".

He takes his seat beside me back "Don't mention it."

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Later I am sorting through stuff for the memorial when Kate emerges from the forest, supporting Micheal. His pant leg is stained red just above the knee and he is limping. I hurry over to help him and his son also runs towards him, bombarding him with questions.

"What happened?" I ask, guiding Kate to the medical tent as she supports the injured Micheal. Micheal's son comes up to him, worried, but Micheal pushes him away, telling him to wait with Sun until I fix his leg.

"We were with John and he saw a boar, but before we could get it charged and hurt Micheal. John insisted on finding the boar himself, but we had to head back to camp. But before we got back that thing came, and it was heading in John's direction, " Kate explains, and we share a grave look.

I rip the makeshift bandage off of Micheal's leg to clean it."You did a good job bandaging this to stop the bleeding," I tell Kate.

"I did what I could. Have you seen Sayid?" She looks troubled.

I point her in his direction and she leaves the tent.

I get a new piece of bandage and redress Micheal's leg. "You should be fine," I tell him "Just keep that clean. Does it hurt?"

"Like hell," Micheal tells me, his voice thin with pain. I give him a prescription dose of ibuprofen "This should help" I tell him and he takes the pills gratefully.

"Thanks for the help. I've got to go look after my son now, but thank you," Micheal says, slowly getting on his feet and walking out of the tent. After cleaning up the medical supplies I used, I too exit the tent.

Evening is nearing, and everyone is getting ready to burn the fuselage. Claire organized a ceremony to pay our respect to the dead and it is peaceful. Locke got back recently, covered in blood and with boar in tow and we had roast boar for dinner. I find Patrick as the last of the light leaves the sky and the fire in the fuselage is lit. The fire burns hot, and the flames climb up the fuselage, engulfing it. Even though we are not close to the fire, I can still feel its heat on the front of my body. We are all silent as Claire reads off the names of the dead along with pieces of information about them, paying our final respects.

"That was nice," I say as we walk back to our tent after the ceremony. "Are you doing okay?" I ask him. He has the same look he had on his face at both mom and dad's funeral.

"Yeah, I'm okay," he says, unconvincingly. "Are you?"

"I'm fine," I respond. "You know it's okay to not be okay," I tell him.

"I know, but let's talk about something else. This is too depressing," Patrick says as we sit down in front of our tent. I agree and change the subject to something lighter and soon we are no longer thinking about the funeral and the ones we lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of chapter. So, what did you think? Sam will definitely have her own flashback in the future so you can gain more insight into her past. Thank you to everyone who read, and please review. Also, please PM me if you want, I love reviving messages and I will respond. - K


	4. Chapter Four: White Rabbit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thank you to everyone who read my last chapter. Here is your next weekly update, I hope you like it.

The next afternoon I'm sitting on the beach reading a book. When I finish the chapter I am on, I dog-ear my page before setting my book down to go for a walk on the beach.

I hear screaming coming from the water and I turn to the ocean and see someone struggling to swim. I am about to run in the water, but Jack beats me to it, stripping off his shirt as he plunges into the water. A small crowd gathers, watching Jack as he swims out, deep into the ocean. His figure grows smaller and smaller, then grows bigger when he returns. He is carrying someone back with him. I realize it is Boone when he gets close to shore.

Kate and I wade into the ocean and retrieve a slumped Boone from Jack. As soon as Boone is safe, Jack heads back out.

"What are you doing?" Kate asks him.

"There's someone else still out there," he tells her before plunging back into the waves. I offer to go instead, he is tired from the first trip, but it is no use. He is already out of earshot.

Boone is okay, he seems a bit worn down, but otherwise, he is fine. Unfortunately, this does not hold true for the other person Jack went after. She drowned, taken out by the undertow, and unable to swim back in, according to Kate at least. I head back to the tent and sit back down with my abandoned book and open it to where I left off. After a few minutes of staring at the words without reading, I give up and throw the book down.

"What happened?" my brother asks me.

"A woman drowned. Jack tried to save her, but it was too late," I tell him.

"Jesus, that's awful. I mean, I didn't even know her but…"

"Yeah, I know what you mean," I say heavily.

Neither of us wants to dwell on this, so Patrick changes the subject. "Hey, can you get us some more water? I think we are out."

"You get it, I got it last time," I argue.

"But you're closer," he groans.

I stand up and move to the other side of Patrick "No, you are."

"Fine! I'll get it!" he gives up dramatically, knowing that this could go on all day if we let it.

"Ugh, fine. I'll get it. But you have to next time!" he says dramatically before walking off.

Patrick comes back with half a bottle of water "There's almost no water left. I got a little just in case, but we should try to save it. I didn't want to get too much." he says, filling me in. He stores the bottle in a bag and shoves it in the tent to keep it out of the warm sun.

I sigh, something I am doing a lot more in the last few days, "Well, thanks for getting it. I hope we can find some more water soon. Collecting rainwater won't work as a long-term solution."

Patrick voices his agreement, but our conversation soon tapers off and I return to reading my book.

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Later that day I am helping Kate go through the luggage, sorting out the useful from the non-useful.

"So why were you in Australia?" she asks as we work.

"Oh, nothing super interesting. Just family stuff," I lie. I don't really feel like getting into my real reason for visiting now, especially when Kate is just trying to make conversation. "What about you?" I ask.

"Vacation" she answers "I always wanted to visit an island. I didn't expect this," she jokes.

I laugh lightly "Well, I guess it's true. That's why they say be careful what you wish for."

Kate doesn't have time to reply before Walt comes running towards us "Hey! The pregnant lady, she fell down!" He informs us frantically. Kate and I rush off in the direction Walt indicated. We don't get far before we see Micheal and Charlie carrying a passed out Claire.

"What happened?" I ask, going to Claire's head and falling in place with Micheal and Charlie.

"She just dropped," Charlie says, sounding shocked and worried.

"Is she breathing?" Kate asks, but even as she does, I am checking for myself. Her chest is rising and falling.

"She is," I affirm.

We get to the medical tent and Charlie and Micheal lay Claire down on the ground. I place a cushion under her head and several under her feet to elevate them. I cheek her forehead with my hand, a poor substitute for a thermometer, but it's what we've got. She's burning hot.

"She's burning hot, she needs water," I say as Kate wakes Claire up. As Claire stirs, Kate gently explains what happened to her and tells her to take it easy. I start to untie her shoes and take them off. Micheal has already removed one shoe and I start undoing the other. I finish the job and I am about to pull the show off when Charlie makes an announcement that stops us all in our tracks.

"That water's gone. Someone stole it."

Even though Claire is still not fully conscious, I can see the panic in her eyes. "Hey, it's okay. You'll be alright. We will figure this out." I assure her. I then turn and instruct the others.

"Kate, go find Jack and tell him what happened. Then try talking to Locke. He's always out in the jungle, if there's any water nearby he will know where it is." Kate nods and heads off.

I turn towards Michal and Charlie "Can you two go see if anyone has any extra water? Patrick, my brother, will probably have some. Also, try to find some fruit. There is water and sugar in fruit, which will be good for her. Maybe split up?" I suggest. They both agree and head off.

Claire is mostly conscious now. "You'll be okay," I reassure her again. "Have you been drinking enough water today?"

"I don't know… probably not. There's not a lot left, and I didn't want to take too much away from the group." She tells me sheepishly.

"That's sweet of you, but you need to remember to take care of yourself," I scold lightly. "And your baby" I add.

"Oh! Will he be okay?" Claire asks, scared.

"He should be fine," I tell her. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, I just want to make sure you take care of yourself."

Claire falls silent as I check her pulse. "Your pulse is strong and regular, which is good," I tell her. "We'll get you some water and you'll feel better in no time. In the meantime, just stay in the cool tent and off of your feet for the day."

Claire agrees reluctantly. "I just hate to be a bother."

"Hey," I say in a serious tone. "You are not a bother, okay?"

Claire smiles "Okay, thanks Sam."

"You're welcome," I say. I stand up and dig through Jack's medical supply for a first aid case. I find one, grab an instant ice pack from out of it, break the ice pack, and place it on Claire's neck. "This will help cool you down," I tell her.

"Thanks. I'm really exhausted. Is it okay if I sleep?"

"It's okay to sleep, but wait until Charlie or Micheal gets back with some water. I want you to have some fluids in you. But once you've drank some water, it's definitely good to sleep." I tell her. "I'll stay with you until they get some water for you."

"Okay, thank you."

"It's my pleasure," I tell her, and we chat for a bit before falling into a comfortable silence. As I sit in the tent next to Claire, my mind drifts. 

______________________________________________________________  
Flashback  
______________________________________________________________

I am 14 years old and I am standing over the stovetop. Spaghetti is boiling in a pot next to me and I am standing in front of a pan of meat sauce, stirring regularly. As I cook the food, I think back to when I used to help my mom or dad cook, instead of doing the cooking myself. When dinner is ready, I call Patrick to set the table for the two of us while I put the food in serving dishes. I already know that Dad will not be joining us for dinner.

"So, how was your day at school today?" I ask Patrick as we eat.

"It was good. We are learning about the solar system and how the seasons and stuff happen," he tells me cheerily, launching into a long explanation about night and day and the seasons. "Did you have a fun day at school?" he asks when finishes speaking.

"Fun isn't the word I would use. High school is pretty tough, but I had a pretty good day. Thanks for asking."

After we finish eating, Patrick gets ready for bed while I clean up the dishes. After I clean the dishes, I take a plate of food to my dad, along with a bottle of beer. I've learned that he is more likely to actually eat if I bring him some alcohol with his food. I find him in the living room, several empty bottles of beer already surrounding him.

I approach him "Hey Dad, I brought you some dinner."

He looks over at me, a pained expression on his face "Thank you, darling. You always make such good food, just like your mother. You look just like her you know."

My father has told me this a thousand times before my mother died, and a million times after. If we had a conversation where he didn't say this, it would surprise me. "Thank you. Do you want me to sit with you or do you want to eat alone?" I ask.

"I'd rather be alone right now. You should go get your homework done. I want you to do well in school."

I leave him alone in the living room and do just that. I never have time to start my homework before dinner. Between helping Patrick with his homework, making dinner, and other chores, I don't have the time. I work steadily and at 8:30 I go into Patrick's room and find him engrossed in a large book.

"Is that the same book you were reading last night?! You've read so much of it!" I exclaim as I close the door.

"Yeah, I read during school today," he explains before filling me in on everything that has happened in his book since last night.

I listen to his account before saying, "That great, you'll have to read more tomorrow. I can't wait to hear all about it! But it's bedtime now."

"Okaaay" he draws out mournfully, before carefully marking his page and setting it down on his nightstand. I say goodnight to my eight-year-old brother before leaving him to sleep. After I leave his room, I go back to mine to finish my homework. When I am done, I place the work in my backpack and set an alarm for 6 am.

________________________________________________________________  
Present Day   
________________________________________________________________

After about 20 minutes, Charlie approaches the tent with a cup of water. I can tell he wants to be with Claire alone so I leave the tent and sit down on the beach near the ocean. I sit watching the waves wash onto the shore and recede back into the ocean in a rhythmic motion. I'm not sitting for long before Sawyer approaches me, a cocky grin on his face.

"So, I hear you've been called to fill the doc's shoes. How's that working out for you?" he asks, sitting down next to me.

I shrug "I think I'll manage. Where is Jack anyway?"

"Nobody knows. He disappeared into the jungle of mystery," Sawyer answers. His tone, as always, is colored by sarcasm.

"Well, I hope he's back soon. The water's all gone. Charlie thinks someone took it. People are going to panic when they find out."

"Anyone ever ask if the pop star took it himself?"

"I don't think he did. Good theory, though. He did find it missing, and he was the first to say it was stolen. But he's been so worried about Claire. If he had it, he would give her some water." I speculate.

"So, is the pregnant chick going to be okay?" Sawyer asks shyly.

I notice his change in tone "Why? You worried about her?"

"So what if I am?" Sawyer shoots back defensively.

I laugh lightly "Relax, I'm just messing with you. She's fine, Charlie found her some water to get her fluids up."

Charlie leaves the tent and walks by me and Sawyer. "Well, I'd better let you get back to it," Sawyer says before swiftly taking off.

I spend the day drifting in and out of Claire's tent. Everyone is panicked about the disappearance of the water and the absence of Jack. People are whispering and theorizing about where the water is. The knowledge that someone stole it spread quickly and everyone has different theories as to who took it.

It is night, and Jack still hasn't returned. I leave Claire sleeping in the tent to go find some dinner. There's still some boar left, so I get a plate of boar meat. The food is nourishing and offers a welcome distraction from the chaos. After I finish eating, I head back to Claire's tent to cheek on her. I'm about to enter the tent when Charlie comes out and throws Boone on the ground.

"Here's your thief!" Charlie yells.

Micheal comes up beside me "Where'd he hide it?" he asks.

"I don't know. This wanker has three bottles on him."

Boone stands up and I survey him with a hard look "What's your problem? You knew Claire needed water!"

Most of the camp circles around Boone now and he frantically tries to explain himself "It was just sitting in the tent. And Jack just took off, someone had to take responsibility."

"A responsible person would have given her water" I accuse.

"Claire could have died!" Charlie yells, angry. Well, that's a bit dramatic, but I get where he is coming from.

"I tried to give her some sooner, but it just got out of hand. No one would have understood." Boone defends.

Kate comes us and asks what's happening while Boone continues to spout excuses. He can only get a few more words out before Charlie shoves him. I try to pull Charlie away from Boone, but he pushes me aside and goes for another attack.

A commanding voice interrupts the fight "Leave him alone!"

Everyone falls silent and stares at Jack. "It's been six days and we're all still waiting, waiting for someone to come. But what if they don't?"

Jack voices the worry that's been on everyone's mind, that no one's faced head-on until now. Because fighting over a limited water supply is not what people who think they will soon be rescued do, and we all know it. No one says anything and Jack continues speaking.

"We have to stop waiting. We need to start figuring things out. A woman died this morning just going for a swim. And he tried to save her, and now you're about to crucify him? We can't do this. Every man for himself is not gonna work. It's time to start organizing. We need to figure out how we are going to survive here. Now, I found water. Fresh water, up in the valley."

At this, I feel myself let out an internal sigh of relief. I hadn't realized how worried I was about the lack of water. Jack continues on with his speech, laying out a plan.

"I'll take a group in at first light. If you don't want to come, then find another way to contribute." he urges us. "Last week, most of us were strangers. But we're all here now. And God knows how long we are going to be here. But if we can't live together… we're going to die alone."

We all are silent, but I think everyone realizes that Jack is right. Charlie divides up the remaining water supply, and Hurley and I distribute it around the camp. After everyone has water, I make my way back to Patrick who is sitting in front of the tent, bringing him some water.

I hand him one cup and hold on to the other myself, sitting down next to him. "Here, I owe you for getting us some water earlier." I tell him.

"Thanks, I gave it to Charlie to give to Claire," he tells me.

"I figured you did."

It doesn't take long for us to finish the water we have. Nobody got a lot after we divided it up, but at least everyone got something.

"Do you ever think about mom and dad?" I ask him.

"That's random," he comments, not answering the question.

I just look at him and he sighs before speaking "Not a lot. There's only so much I remember about mom, and dad was very different after she died. Why?"

"Just curious. I think about them sometimes. How different our lives would have been if they were still alive. We wouldn't even be here, probably," I answer.

"I think it would have been really different for me if I didn't have you," he says. "I mean, but now it seems like so long ago. Especially on this island, everything from the real world seems a million miles away." he reflects.

"Yeah, you're right about that. It's like we crashed into a whole different world. Even if nothing's changed, everything will feel so different if we ever get back." Little did I know exactly how right I was at that moment. And how big of an if that would turn out to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of Chapter. Thank you to everyone who is still reading. So... what did you think of the chapter? I finally added some backstory for Sam, and I will build on that in future chapters. Please review and feel free to PM me. :)- K

**Author's Note:**

> End of chapter. I am going to post chapters that coincide with each episode. I did both parts of the pilot though because it's 2 parts of the same episode. Thank you to everyone who read this. So? What did you guys think? Obviously, I changed some things, dialogue, and interactions, but I also keep a lot of the original. As far as changes I make, I will change relationships and interactions between characters the same, as would happen when two more people are added to the island, but I will not change the general plot. A few notes about the story. One is for those of you wondering what exactly a PA is, it's kinda like a doctor. PA school is a lot like med school but it's for two years instead of four. Also, PA's don't do residencies like doctors, they have more on the job training, and its easier for them to switch what field they work in. They also get paid less and have less knowledge than doctors though. Also about the CPR with Sawyer. In modern times it is not procedure to give recuse breaths, unless you have a barrier mask. But in 2004, when the plane crashed it was a procedure. The current procedure didn't become procedure until 2008. Also, now when doing CPR it's 30 compressions to two recuse breaths, but that policy wasn't updated until 2005, and when the plane crashed in 2004 the policy was 15 compressions for every two breaths. Please review, good or bad I'd like to hear what you think. And PM me if you'd like, I love to revive messages.- K


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